Cold World
by RenegadeZer0
Summary: They both were running away from scorched memories that plagued them. Together they would watch the beauty in destruction as everything they had carefully hidden came undone and they would come together under the same flag of pain, smiling at the creation of something worth keeping.
1. Prelude

Prelude

Kendall heard his flight number being called.

"Well when you get this, know I love you and because I love you, I'm going to let you go." His voice cracked as he felt his heart hit the floor, bleeding. "It's going to be great. You'll probably see my work in magazines and you…" The words collected in his lungs. "Will become great." He exhaled and ended the call. He looked down and gently scooped up his heart, cradling it like a mother would her newborn child.

Jett was sulking in a stool at Telma's when James and Logan found him.

"Hey!" James briskly made his way over to Jett and clasped his shoulder.

"What do you guys want? Watching my business – my empire crumble wasn't enough? Do you want the clothes off my back too?!" Jett's words swirled dizzily in the air.

"Where's Kendall?!" James hissed.

"That loser?!" Jett scoffed hollowly.

"Listen you son of a bitch-"

"Your boyfriend isn't in Kudero, or New York for that matter! He's on his way to Paris. Thinks you don't love him anymore, so I convinced him to take up that offer. Then I also paid a visit to some modeling agencies based in and around here, leaked some private files and pictures of your past. Consider it my trump card in this game of ours. You may have ruined me, but I still win." Jett sneered.

Anger boiled under James' skin, but it was Logan who spoke up: "You know Jett? I never realized it when I was working under you, but now I can see how pathetic you really are. You may have had all the power and wealth running this town, but when you take all of it away, you're nothing but a spiteful man that has lost his heart to corruption. You spend most of your time drinking and you have nothing, no one to fall back on. You lost the game before it ever started." At that, Logan turned and started to leave.

Jett stared at the ground solemnly, "Here." Jett threw his Porsche keys at James, "The flight isn't leaving till 8:00. If you hurry you could make it before it leaves."

James stared at the keys in his hand. He looked back at Jett and he felt something inside him twitch. He jogged outside and hopped in Jett's car, which was parked in front of Telma's bar.

"Jett gave you the keys?" Logan asks in disbelief.

"My dad always told me, 'Even the darkest villains have some light in them, if you know where to look.'" James started the ignition and the engine roared to life.

"You buckled?" James asks, earning a quick nod from Logan.

The tires screeched against the asphalt as they burned down the roadway.

"Let's go find Kendall!"


	2. Strategy

**A/N: Welcome to my story guys! Chapter One of Cold World! I never liked beginnings really, I'd rather get to the meat of the story. So this chapter is good for a beginning. I tried not to let loose to many things. Save that for later! But I wanted to thank BigFan4242 and Sum1cooler for reviewing and JamesMaslowlover for the favorites/follows. Everyone else, I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do! **

**With that, enjoy.**

Telma's Bar was a quiet place. It was where someone can come down from the noise of the city, have a beer and let the tangled emotions in them drip out. The night was cold and you could feel the time stare at you as it dragged itself across the day. There sat Telma's regular: Kendall Knight.

Kendall Knight was a well-known photographer around Kudero. He started out just walking around New York with his camera and snapping pictures at odd angles of different things. Soon enough, people took notice. He garnered the attention of a modeling agency in need of a photographer. After two or three months he took his leave and went to a local newspaper and requested a job. Those are two important pieces to the puzzle of Kendall. His talent and his job.

"Sugar, you can't drown your problems in alcohol." Telma reprimands the photographer as she wipes down a shot glass.

Kendall just rests his head on his arms, eyes glazing over and memories pulsating in his head. A fire crackles distantly in his ears.

"Kendall!" Telma slaps the polished wood of the counter.

Kendall shakes his head, "Sorry." He fumbles for whatever money he has in his pocket and slaps it down on the counter and leaves promptly.

"What's with that kid?" Her daughter asks coming out of the back.

"He's been coming here since three years ago. I remember I was walking down the street about a block away when I saw Kendall shakily walking absolutely _battered._ It must've been a second and a half before I heard a thud behind me. I turned to see him collapsed on the floor, clutching a note in his right hand. I dragged his unconscious body here and tended to the bruises, cuts and scrapes on him. I remember thinking how much he looked like your brother, Andrew." Telma looked down at the memory in front of her sorrowfully.

She quickly pocketed the twenty dollars Kendall left.

"Was he in a fight?" Telma's daughter asked.

"Yes."

"Who was he fighting?"

"The world Sara, the world."

The train station was bustling around with blurred faces and alive with triggers for migraines. Kendall bumped into clean suits and muttered 'sorry' as he squeezed past the claustrophobic wall of flesh. He finally shoved his way to his platform and tried to fix his clothes.

The subway was desolate today, hardly anyone making the downtown commute. Kendall had decided to stay in Kudero for a while, so he wanted to pick up a job at a newspaper company downtown.

The company was well established - got attention very quickly, but their photographer just took leave for a honeymoon vacation with his wife. According to Kendall's research, it started out being a newspaper boy service in the 1950's. The guy who used to run it, Clyde Moore, eventually left the business to his stepson, Roger. Back some sixty years ago, the Moore family was struggling. They only had a few dollars to their name and that was sent towards Clyde's education. Clyde was always late to his first classes because of the deliveries being so early in the morning. He had a lovely second wife some twenty years ago, golden blonde hair, curves in all the right places, always wore floral dresses. His first wife fell to TB during the third year of their marriage.

When Kendall got off the train, he adjusted the strap on his satchel and went on his way.

The inside of Speed Reads was quiet and stuffy, the receptionist was looking at some papers and for the fifth time this morning, the phone rang. She picked up the phone and answered in a daisy-filled voice, "Hello!?"

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Your last name please? Ok Mr. Knight, will 11:30 do? Ok, see you then." She pushed on the receiver and hit the '1' button.

"Yes, Kathy?" The man on the other end answered.

"You have an interview at 11:30 with a photographer. Said his name was Knight."

Mr. Moore looked up at the analog clock in his office. Half past ten.

"What happened to setting up interviews within a day's notice, huh? Okay, when he gets here send him in." Roger hung up and swiveled his chair around, getting up and crossing the checkered carpet to his window. He scowled as he looked on at what his family perceived to be the eyesore of Kudero.

Kings and Queens Empire.

Kendall had an hour to go until the interview so he wandered about. Kudero was a nice enough city; it had its rich districts and poor districts. Kendall passed by town square and stopped. It looked like a photo shoot was being done. There was a director and a photographer moving as much as possible to get the perfect angle. In the center was a fountain that birds loved to flock to, but standing in front was a model. He was very muscular, tan. His hair was short and brunet. He was wearing a tight red shirt and ripped up Levi's. Kendall felt something inside his chest twitch, before his watch beeping snapped him back to reality.

He looked down at his watch and saw that it was 11:21. "Shi—"Kendall dashed off towards his interview.

He ran down four blocks before rounding the corner and getting inside. Kendall walked up to the reception desk and took a moment to collect his breath.

"Mr. Knight, I presume?" Kathy bubbly inquired.

Kendall's words were flopping on the floor, swallowing the oxygen. "Y-Yeah."

The door to Moore's office opened, and a character, which looked close to a politician walked out. He had short dirty blonde hair and a sharp voice. His eyes were covered by sunglasses and his suit looked cleanly pressed. The smile that formed on his face when he caught sight of Kendall was deadly and malicious.

"Roger, buddy, your lackeys are getting worse every year!" A mocking smile hung on his face.

He walked on by and left the building. Roger just sighed and pursed his lips at Kendall. "You okay son?" Roger asked gruffly.

"Yeah…" Kendall absentmindedly looked after to where the man had left.

"Come in son; let's see if you've got some use to us." Roger stood by the door, letting Kendall through.

"Nice office…" Kendall scanned the office corner to corner from its multi-colored carpet and polished wooden floors to his oak-wood desk and the book shelf behind it. To the right was a huge window pane that had a spectacular view of the city. Speed Reads' headquarters was technically only the 13th floor of the building, even though the Moore's owned the entire building itself. Roger decided to make the ground floor the most extravagant lobby that could easily be compared to The Kings and Queens Empire building. The other floors below and above are vacant and waiting for their purpose.

"So, what made you decide to come and request a job, Mr. Knight?" Roger asked, fishing out a box of cigarettes. "You don't care if I—"Roger started.

"No." Kendall quickly stated. "I needed a good job around here, and I kept hearing about you guys, so I thought, 'why not?'" Kendall shrugged.

Roger slowly nodded. "It sounds like you don't really care if you get this job or not. And if that's the case, why didn't you go get hired by a pizza parlor?" Roger inquired.

"Because my talents have far better uses than shoving pizzas into an oven." Kendall matter-of-factly said.

"That's better!" Roger chuckled. "You have a camera, Knight?"

Kendall nodded and started to dig into his satchel and pull his camera out. It was a Canon EOS 50D; it was clean and sported a refurbished look. He put it around his neck.

"Perfect." Roger then stood up and walked over to the window, motioning for Kendall to follow. As they started to look at the expanse of the city, Roger pointed at the King and Queen Empire building.

"You see that fuckin' eyesore? Tallest building in Kudero. It's run by a family called the Stetsons. They control most of Kudero, all of its districts, except for ours: The downtown district. Our family and the Stetsons always have had a rivalry. Lately though, it's been beginning to get serious. That family controls the politics of this city from its shadows. All they want is more wealth and power, care nothing for anyone else. Just pawns to sacrifice for their king."

Kendall looked down upon the city and saw the black and white tiles. Kendall solemnly asked, "What's my first assignment?"

"You okay with getting involved in this?" Roger asked.

Kendall nodded.

"Do your research on them first. Learn as much as you can and come back in 2 days with whatever you feel is significant." Roger started for his desk and pulled out a pencil and paper and scrawled down something before giving it to Kendall. "There's an archive room on the top floor of this building, there's a laptop in there, on it there's a protected folder that requires a password. Put this in and you should find something note worthy."

Kendall took the note and folded it up and slipped it inside his pocket. He nodded and started for the door.

"Oh and one more thing, Knight. Get a flash drive, just in case." Roger added.

Kendall left without another word.

Before doing anything else, Kendall needed a drink.

At this hour Telma's is always quiet. Kendall walked in and was greeted with the usual, "Welcome back, Sugar!" He sat down in a stool next to a brunet man. Kendall cocked his head to the side as he remembered him as being the model in town square.

"T-Telma! Can you hurry up *hiccup* with my liquor!?" The brunet sloppily slammed his fist on the counter.

Telma shook her head and slid a glass of water toward the brunet who was now, spinning slowly in his seat and giggling.

"What's up, Sugar?" Telma leaned over the counter, her cleavage showing and her rounded face smiling lasciviously.

Kendall cleared his throat awkwardly, "Anything to help my headache."

"I'll be back, why don't you chat up Mr. Giggles over there, he seems your type." Telma winked and left to make his drink.

Kendall looked back over to the brunet and quirked an eyebrow at him. That giggling mess? His type? Yeah right. He scoffed but found that he was still staring. He tore his eyes away and fished out that note Mr. Moore had given him.

"_Check"_

That's all it had on it. He flipped it back and forth to make sure, but that's all he could find.

Telma came back with his drink and looked at the note.

"So you got hired, I presume?" Telma knowingly asked.

"Wait…you know?" Kendall incredulously asked.

Telma nodded. "The royalty of Kudero's bloodline goes back three-hundred years. Believe it or not, the Moore's and the Stetsons used to be on the same side of things."

"What happened?"

"Well—"The drunken model cut her off.

"Heeeyy!" The model clasped his hand clumsily on Kendall's shoulder.

"What?" Kendall focused on the brunet model now falling off of his stool.

I…Sleepy." The brunet managed to get out before the floor.

"Of all the stupid…" Kendall groaned. Telma started snickering, while Kendall got up to stand him back up.

"Told you he was your type." Telma stated.

Kendall shot her a look and started toward the back, where Telma keeps all her incapacitated customers.

Telma stopped him, "Nuh-uh! I'm full tonight, you're just gonna have to find another place for him, Sugar."

"Where can I take him?!" Kendall protested.

Telma thought for a minute and smiled mischievously, "How about your place?"

Kendall opened his mouth to argue again; then closed it. He groaned loudly and adjusted the drunken model's weight on his shoulders.

"Did he happen to tell you his name?" Kendall asked over his shoulder.

"He told me a lot of things, Sugar. But I remember him being called James Diamond. He seems short a brain cell or two and has an air of arrogance, but he seems nice enough sober." Telma laughed.

Kendall just shook his head and made his way toward the train station.

All Kendall knows is, James had better not vomit!


End file.
